


Roll Away Your Stone

by mistrali



Category: Circle of Magic - Tamora Pierce, Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/pseuds/mistrali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5-sentence fics for Lark, Crane and Rosethorn, for Table Three of 5sentence fics at LJ. Some romantic, others platonic. CHAPTER 5 IS RATED M, The rest are T. Title from Mumford and Sons' song of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confirmation

Prompt: red tape

__________

"Green Man take the next slime-brained Water idiot who sends me a, a 'note of confirmation' after the order's been placed," snapped Rosethorn, scribbling on the slate. "Why should I waste ten days making pain-numbing medicines if they can't even be punctual? If Crane hadn't taken over the Air temple, I tell you, it'd be just like this; half the people in there can't think past the next two minutes."

"Don't let him hear you say that," said Lark, looking up with a smile from where she was tracing patterns for Daja's new clothes.

"No: Mila knows we wouldn't want him to get a swollen head," remarked Rosethorn, her voice very dry.


	2. Dandelion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gila is Lark's preseries name in my headcanon.

Prompt: 'flip side'

* * *

Gila glided along the tightrope – almost floated, Niva thought foolishly, because she couldn't be actually  _touching_  that strip of silk, the way she wafted across like a breath of air, or a dandelion seed.

"How did you like that?" she asked, leaping and landing easily on her feet.

Niva caught her breath – the girl's body was beautiful – and said, swallowing, "I… were your family acrobats?" She flushed as soon as she said it; she felt pale and clumsy and unlovely, not dainty and nut-brown like this dandelion-girl, Gila Elakary of Sotat.

Gila brushed a dark lock out of her eyes and  _smiled_  at Niva - and, oh, Mila and the Green Man help her, if Isas realised she was smitten with this girl, he'd never stop badgering her with silly jealousies.

 


	3. Sweet Disposition

Prompt: 'drawing the line'.

_____________________

"How many nights have you stayed up till past two in the morning, Crane?" demanded Rosethorn, as he stumbled into Discipline looking haggard and dull-eyed.  
"I am not," he said tiredly, "that, that twelve-year-old ruffian of a green mage in your charge; I can manage a few seedlings without collapsing."

"You should know better: that cursed greenhouse isn't worth working yourself sick for," she snapped, though her touch on his forehead was gentle.

"It is if I want to be the first mage this side of the Endless to grow avocado plants," he said, glaring at her with something like satisfaction.

"Extra honey in his tea, Lark?" asked Rosethorn, rolling her eyes at the other woman; it was a long-running joke between the three that whenever any of them – usually Rosethorn – was tired and grouchy, one of the others would make them sweetened tea, with plenty of honey, cream and cinnamon.


	4. Walking on the Sun

Prompt: 'walking on the sun'

____________

"Gods preserve us, Crane, the air here is hot and thick as blood - no, Rosie, love, I'll tell you if I need the potion," Lark murmured, and smiled as Rosethorn's hand slid from her pocket into her lover's small, damp palm.

"Naturally, Dedicate Lark – I do wear the yellow robe, and am sworn to Asaia," he said, lifting his chin.

"Well, the legend says she woke Shurri Firesword from her long sleep by dancing on the sun; that can't be any hotter than walking in _here_ ," said Rosethorn, grinning at Lark.

"The heat is _necessary_ ; it preserves the moisture that makes the plants grow," Crane snapped. He scowled at the sight of Rosethorn cackling like a hen - of all the undignified things for a Dedicate to do! - and Lark's furtive grin did nothing to soothe his injured dignity.


	5. Evergreen

**Mature content. Not suitable for age 15 or under.**

Prompt: 'evergreen'.

______________

From her position in Crane's lap, Rosethorn twitched her fingers and summoned a Yanjing jasmine vine, which flowed over her stomach and onto Lark's legs, binding their bodies together.

Lark sighed as it curled about her thighs. The greenhouse's heat had not dried out her skin; it was, if anything, exquisitely sensitive, and she gasped at the soft touch of petals, and whimpered when calloused, deliberate fingers followed them, stroking and stroking.

She saw Rosethorn arch her head back in delight as Crane coaxed a flower to bloom on her stomach; some exotic, purple thing, as fanciful as Rosethorn was practical, thought Lark drowsily. From Crane's quiet groans, she knew he must be receiving the gentler end of Rosethorn's tongue.


	6. Indulgences

Prompt: Goldenlake's Malorie's Peak Prompt #1, 'colour'

_____________

Sandry had warned her it would be strange, but Rosethorn had not expected this. Lip colour alone came in six different shades; then there were eyelid tints ranging from blue to gold, creams to hide blemishes, and powders to darken or lighten skin. It seemed wasteful to spend time and coin on nobles' indulgences such as these... but if Lark did not feel beautiful at forty-six, Rosethorn would try to help, though she had told Lark in no uncertain terms that the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth gave her face character.

She chose a plum lip colour and a bluish eyelid tint that she thought would bring out Lark's beautiful brown eyes, and after much haggling turned to leave. A vial the scarlet of poppy caught her eye and she hesitated, wondering if Lark would appreciate it if she wore face-paint; Crane, she knew quite well, would think it unnecessary.


	7. Pin Drop

prompt: 'keep in touch'

________

 

Lark had never relished solitude. She had no idea how Crane could work for hours with not a whisper around him, or why Rosethorn preferred the shady nooks of the Earth temple pews to the shimmering, chattering crowds around the great shrine to the Mother temple. Now she looked up and paused: the silence, with no children or Rosethorn to contain it, felt like a coat of dust, tainting even the letter she was writing to Niko and Tris.

She stroked a bright weaving of Sandry's, made the winter she first came to Discipline, and drew Briar's potted dahlias closer towards her.  _They'll be back in four months,_  she told herself, but gods, she felt like a broken loom, clicking endlessly into the quiet.

 


	8. Call of the Wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for horror.

Prompt: 'call of the wild'. Written for Malorie's Peak Prompt #2, 'Hauntings'.

* * *

Rosethorn knew she must be dreaming, but here she was, listening again to the death-garden's whisper, somehow louder than the clamour of nettle, prickly pear and onion-grass run amok.

A leaf drifted across her path; she followed it and saw Briar and Crane grappling over a  _shakkan_ birch, its twigs soaked with their dwindling power. Stop, it's leaching your magic! she called, and reached to warn them... they dissolved, and here was Lark, singing as she spun a nightshade-and-ivy cocoon around herself. Rosethorn groped for a healing ointment, terrified, as Lark's skin broke out in angry blotches and she began to cough violently. The girls were nearby, giggling as they melted, half-flesh, into magic that might have been water, or thread, or flame...


	9. The Final Sacrifice

Prompt: 'take the fall'. Also written for Malorie's Peak Prompt #55, Remembrance.' Title from Florence and the Machine's song "Raise It Up (Rabbit Heart)".

____________

All of Discipline cottage, even Niko, when he is there, gathers to hear Lark's tales of dancing and tumbling with her troupe abroad: in five minutes Glaki is almost vibrating in her seat with excitement at Lark's stories of the players' antics, and even Evvy is drawn out of her sulks or memories to ask questions; Comas simply listens, his keen eyes alight, and dreams of seeing the wonders she describes for himself.

Once, when Crane is there, she talks of travelling over the Silk Cradle, to Yanjing, for a six-month stint. Crane remembers morning cups of green tea shared with Mountainstrider and Rosethorn, and the stories the older mage told him of life in Saijien, a medium-sized province. Despite the death, illness and pain of their subjects during that first essence-testing, those were memorable days for the precious few hours of peace and companionship they were able to savour amid the grief.

It was Mountainstrider's death, a sacrifice which ended the struggle to cure breakbone fever, that rekindled Rosethorn and Crane's determination, and with it a love for each other that is prickly as Yanjingyi thorn-bamboo and has proven just as enduring.


	10. Food For Thought

Prompt: 'in good standing'

Also written for Goldenlake's Malorie's Peak Prompt: #78 Marshmallows.

_____________

Lark's eyes popped open as she ate; the stuff was soft and sweet, and chewy before it melted away on her tongue.

"It's delicious - much better 'n your teas," she managed to croak, as the sticky substance coated her throat.

"It's the pith of a mallow plant - the name comes from an Old Tharian word that means 'healing'."

When Lark looked at her in surprise, she said ruefully, "Crane chose to learn a bit of Kurchali and Old Tharian for our novitiate - he blathered about how plant and animal names came from those cursed dead languages till I wanted to throw something. I studied and passed the tests, but he almost lived in the library; it vexed him no end when I came second in our mathematics exam and he only placed fourth," she added, smiling reminiscently.


	11. Hearers and Hearteners

Prompt: 'lonely at the top'. Title from Yeats (taken totally out of context, sorry!) Set during HitV.

____________________

He doesn't consider most of his Air colleagues in the greenhouse worthy of his friendship or regard; they are so many blithely chattering birds, in need of instruction and order, hanging open-mouthed and uncritical on his every word.

But when the place is emptied of yellow robes, and the orchids and vines finally settle to sleep, Crane feels like the only flesh-and-blood creature left alive.

It dawns on him then that there is no one now, with Rosethorn away at Urda's House, who will drape an arm about his shoulders and talk casually of drought in Anderran or the price of Chammuri rice; ask him (sometimes deliberately provocative) questions about everything from the usefulness of noble families to why he uses a particular clay to line his pots; surprise him with a new book on Mbauan geography, though she can hardly spare the money; or share a fruit juice in silence.

So it is more comforting than he will admit to have Lark's serene presence beside him in the empty hothouse on Sunsday rest periods. She never breathes a word about loneliness or pride, but asks without fail whether he wishes to join them for supper; sometimes he accepts gratefully, hoping he can distract her from Rosethorn and Briar's absence as she has done for him, and sometimes declines, feeling like an intruder in that cosy cottage where they finish one another's sentences and read each other's gestures like scrolls, and move as bees do in that strange dance incomprehensible to outsiders that, Crane supposes, is typical of families.


	12. The Perils of Domesticity

Written for Malorie's Peak Prompt #3,"Food", at Glake.

___________

"Rosethorn sends her love," said Crane incredulously.

"Well, I believe her exact words were, 'Tell that idiot Crane that eating and sleeping are not optional activities, unless he wants to pay an extended visit to Water', but I think we can read between the lines," said Lark, with a smile.

"I made some of her leek-and-carrot soup and flaxseed rolls - don't fret, I got Comas and Pasco to help, or we'd all have ended up at the healers'," she added, offering him a bowl.

"How are they, and how are you?" he asked, between bites. "Raising four energetic child-mages alone is not an enviable task; tell me if you need any help - as long as it does not involve actual interaction with them," he added hastily.


	13. Comrades-in-Arms

Prompt: 'calling me home'

_________________

Rosethorn lay awake under the makeshift tent, listening to shouts and distant explosions, questing with her magic out of habit. The ground was treacherous with ice and boom-stone craters, but this place at least had not been fertile before its destruction, Green Man be thanked - Rosethorn didn't think she could have borne a second round of protecting plants from lethal battlefire, and feeling so much green life char despite her shield.

Mila help her, but it was desolate; she wanted to find Briar and Evvy, to be around people other than these guerilla warriors who didn't respect her except as a fellow combatant.

Crane would have understood without words but still said something because he thought it would help her to hear it; Lark would have taken Rosethorn's fears and allayed them with a look or an embrace. And there you go again, thinking about Winding Circle, she scolded herself - but how to stop remembering when every freezing gust and too-close shot, every hour of crouching in trenches and igniting boom-stones or battlefire or ivy-dust to kill the enemy, reminded her of where she wasn't?


	14. Vigil

Prompt: 'the big blue'

___________

Lark did not even hear him; her eyes were fixed on Rosethorn, who dozed fitfully but was cooler to the touch than expected, with no blue spots, for which Crane thanked every god he could think of; he sat down anyway and poured them both a cup of morning blend flavoured with orange peel and cardamom.

She took the cup without thanks, but seemed to regain a little strength as she sipped, and her stare lost some of its blankness.

"You shouldn't tax yourself like this, Dedicate Lark, you've been at her side these two nights; surely they can spare a healer at Water."

"Water can't even spare their own novices - and I won't have Rosie treated by a trainee who doesn't know his way around a sleeping potion," said Lark, her voice harsh with exhaustion and worry. "I'm sorry, Crane; I know all the temples are down to the bone with this, and your people in the greenhouse especially, but everyone's worn too thin, even the ones who aren't sick."


	15. Is My Destroyer

Prompt: 'hands are tied'. Title from Dylan Thomas's "The Force that Through the Green Fuse..."

________________

"Tell me, how does a count's son come to work with medicines, of all things, at Winding Circle and Lightsbridge?" asked Niva, raising her eyebrows at him over their shared desk; he carefully measured out half a vial of powdered arrowroot before he began to speak.

"Both are famed for their magical knowledge from Karang to Olart - surely that is sufficient reason."

"Oh, for Mila's sake don't give me that 'I wanted to be a scholar' nonsense; what made you work like this, if you have money and large estates?" she asked, thinking of her father's rants about how nobles' greed had sluiced the topsoil from Anderran.

"I had no wish to languish at home, or study traditional academic magic, while my intellect withered for want of application," he said calmly, intent on the mixture.

"Well, that's exactly what it feels like mine's doing," growled Niva, envious of his composure; she was feeling decidedly brittle, and thought she'd drag Isas along to pay Gila a visit this Starsday, research or no research; it was coming up to Midsummer, and they might visit the weekly markets and walk around sampling food and watching the performers and coveting things neither of the two women could afford; it would be some relief from this barren death-trap of a workspace.


	16. Your Own Land

Prompt: 'stretching the truth'. Warning for PTSD.

Title from Keane's "Everybody's Changing".

________________

Rosethorn doesn't talk about Gyongxi - not to Crane, who keeps looking at her as if she'll break, or to Lark, whose worry is evident in every movement.

She tells them and Briar that the mind-healer is helping: it's not a lie, after all. There's no reason for Lark to know how a word can make her flinch and flashes of memory play tricks on her at the oddest, happiest moments, or for Crane to hear about the pervasive muck and casual brutality of fighting.

Neither he nor Lark has much knowledge of war and its aftereffects; for all Crane's known Rosethorn for twenty years, for all she spends every waking moment with Lark, and for all she's not stupid enough to assume Gyongxi hasn't left its scars, she doesn't think they see how it's eroding her.

They prove her wrong in small ways, with gestures as insidious as the thoughts in her head - conversations over cups of tea, a squeeze of the hand, a favourite meal, a new variety of flower, a few kisses - that are less cathartic but more affirming than all the mind-healer's weeks of work.


	17. Skin

Prompt 'no retreat'. Also written for Glake's MPP #5, healing.

_______

"I forgot how I missed this," she breathed into Lark's skin, somewhere above her sternum. She was giddy from Lark's sheer proximity, from soft curls and strong arms wrapped around her waist; not since before Gyongxi had she been so close to another human being (there was the forced closeness of the trenches, but that was something else entirely). Nothing about Lark's hands rediscovering her body had triggered Rosethorn's flashes tonight; for the first time in a long time, sleeping next to Lark didn't remind her of the smell of blood or sulfur, or being crammed into a space narrower than this bed with bodies pressed against her. There was no escaping the flashes for a time yet, so the mind-healer had said, and Rosethorn knew too well that medicine could only do so much. She remembered something Crane was fond of saying about the body being its own healer sometimes, and wondered if touch could be part of that recovery.


	18. Logistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt 'major renovation' for and MPP #6 Puzzles. Crossposted to FFN and Glake.   
> This is a different 'verse from my headcanon in that Rosethorn and Lark meet at Winding Circle itself. I wondered how Crane got the approval to even build the greenhouse, since they can be tremendous consumers of energy and resources. ETA: Ankhiale has reminded me that in HitV, we're told Crane donated his personal fortune to the greenhouse. That solves (some) monetary problems, but not the rest of the rigmarole involved in building something like this.

Crane ran his quill thoughtfully over the parchment; how to broach to Honoured Moonstream that he planned to build a very expensive glass house in place of that shack called a nursery on the outskirts of the Air temple?

The greater part of the scheme would have to be paid for out of a grant from the Duke's treasury, and the rest from nobles' donations. Then came the difficulty of tracking down a merchant who could transport so many panes safely; the high levels of power involved in heating such a building; and the logistics of identifying and bringing in specimens for the place, which Rosethorn had refused to help with even before their quarrel. Besides, she was moving in with that tumbler over the autumn, he thought sourly, and he would not stoop to begging for her help like a lovesick adolescent; no doubt she would laugh over it with that Linnet, or whatever her name was.            
                                 
He brushed a hand over his eyes; had this been a hair-brained dream from the first, a product of too many late nights reading about the forests across the Endless?


	19. New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt 'a matter of luck' and MPP #76 New Beginnings. Same 'verse as "Logistics" - R&L meet later in life, at Winding Circle itself.

_New Life_

Moving into the cottage meant taking a chance on something tested but still uncertain, like the first flush of green life in spring; it was a matter of luck as much as perseverance. She'd be giving up her dormitory room of eighteen months and going somewhere they could work to build a solid foundation for themselves and for those who, like Lark, had come from the streets or had had trouble adjusting to temple life.

"Don't expect me to visit for a few weeks; I'll be moving into Discipline with Lark. In Mead Moon," she added, as if that would halt the change of Crane's face from scarlet to pale. 

"My best wishes; I hope you prosper with her," he said blandly, and before Rosethorn could speak, he turned and strode up to the Air temple without so much as a backward glance.


	20. Swim

Niva and her pale, sneering friend were wading into the sea, thought Vetiver in astonishment, for all the world as though they were children. They fumbled and minced their way to waist height, gripping each other's hands and eyeing swells as if they were mountain peaks. A little ahead of them, Gila thrashed out a clumsy freestyle, barely keeping her head above water.

Vetiver grinned, reminded of teaching nieces and nephews to swim, on her occasional visits back home. These inlanders, they didn't know the joys of the sea; they would make fools of themselves trying to learn, and she would have fun watching them do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'deep water'


	21. Stitch in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Stitch in Time  
> Rating: G  
> Summary: Lark works her magic - nope, the other kind - once again.  
> Warnings: None  
> Notes: For my LCR series at 5sentence_fic, for the prompt 'stitch in time'.

"Your housemate's been too long among the weavers," says Acacia knowingly, between mouthfuls of spiced bass and flatbread. "Last I heard, she'd gone to give His Lordship a present, of all things, some sort of wall hanging; mind, he's likely murdered her by now, seeing as they haven't been out for fifteen minutes."

You walk fast - running is unseemly, and besides, Crane is no more lethal than a flowerpot - towards the greenhouse, ready to do battle. Lark's your friend against all likelihood, she's one of two people who puts up with your fits of temper and your strange taste in tea, and you do not want to see her blistered by your other best friend's tongue.

The words die on your lips when you see Crane laughing and chatting with Lark as if they've known each other for years; over supper, when you ask her what on the gods' green earth she did, she smiles mysteriously and talks about preventing trouble later on.


End file.
